Quint turned to Angélica. “I meant, what does that mean for the dig plans. Are we going to focus on the dilapidated temple or this creepy tomb-like building first?”
“I’ll give you my answer after I check out what’s inside that entrance.”
“¡Dios mío!”Her dad watched Dr. Fernel, a grimace lining his face. “The bugs seem to think you are another piece of rotting fruit. Did you bring any insect spray along?
“No!” Dr. Fernel spun around, stumbling toward them, trying to dodge a wasp.
“Are you wearing some fruity-smelling deodorant?” Pedro asked around a mouthful of papaya, recoiling as Dr. Fernel came his way.
“I’m not wearing any deodorant.” He dodged and weaved again as a pair of bees joined in the manhunt. “The guidebook said that wild animals can smell you from far away and recommended letting my body odor act as a deterrent.”
That explained the odor coming from him each afternoon. The guidebook had been right, but Angélica preferred to use some natural unscented deodorant locally produced so that she didn’t stink out the rest of the crew, especially now that Quint was with her day and night.
“That could be a problem,gatita,” her father said, pointing at Dr. Fernel, who was gaining welts by the minute. “Maybe we should take him back to camp.”
“I don’t get it,” Quint said, watching Dr. Fernel hop about, swinging his tablet more wildly at the terrors trying to sting and bite him. “He had no problems with bugs along the path on the hike here. What’s with this attack now?”
“Maybe his sweat is sweeter than ours,” Pedro suggested, wiping at the fruit juice running down his chin.
“You ever seen something like this?” Quint asked her.
“Huh-uh. He sort of reminds me of you doing your butterfly dance yesterday.”
Her father nodded. “Only with a lot more flailing and occasional shrieks.”
And squeals, Angélica thought, wincing at the sound of one. “If he’s not careful, he’s— Watch out!” she called out, but she was too late.
Dr. Fernel hadn’t seen the tree root sticking out of the earth. He fell with an “Oof!”
His tablet flew from his hands, hurtling end over end through the air.
Crack!
It landed screen-side down on some rock rubble near the base of the temple.
“No!” Dr. Fernel cried out, his glasses setting crookedly on his face as he gaped at where the tablet lay on the ground.
“Ay yi yi. That sounded bad.” Pedro tossed aside the papaya pit. He headed over to retrieve the tablet, stepping on rotting fruit along the way.
Angélica rushed over to Dr. Fernel with Quint following on her heels.
“Let me help you up.” Quint swatted at the cloud of insects hovering over the man. He grabbed onto Dr. Fernel’s arm and hefted him topside, plucking a squashed papaya off his chest and another one off his thigh.
“Are you okay?” Angélica asked, brushing away a cockroach on the verge of scuttling under Dr. Fernel’s collar.
The poor guy’s eyelids were at half-mast, most likely swollen like the rest of his face. “I’m feeling a little woozy.”
Of course he was. Holy shit! The guy needed to go back to camp and spend some time with Teodoro, who’d probably coat him with layers of his homemade antihistamine lotion and try to get some healing tea into him.
Pedro joined them with the tablet in hand. The screen was dark with a big, splintered crack on it.
“I think it bit the ground,” Pedro said, holding it out for them to see.
Bit the … ? Oh.Bit the dust.
Angélica took the tablet. “Maybe Bronko can take a look at it later, see if there is any hope for it.”
Bronko was the one responsible for the technology inside the communications tent, seeming to have a knack for making electronics work in spite of the ever-present dirt, bugs, and humidity in the jungle.
